Versuri Eminem – KILLSHOT (Machine Gun Kelly Diss) Lyrics

KILLSHOT (Machine Gun Kelly Diss) versuri

You sound like a b*tch b*tch
Shut the f*ck up
When your fans become your haters
You done?
F*ck your beard’s weird
Alright
You yellin’ at the mic you weird beard
We doin’ this once
Your beard’s weird why you yellin’ at the mic?

Rihanna just hit me on the text
Last night I left hickeys on her neck
Wait you just dissed me I’m perplexed
Insult me in a line compliment me on the next damn
I’m really sorry you want me to have a heart attack
Was watchin’ 8 Mile on my Nordic Track
Realized I forgot to call you back
Here’s that autograph for your daughter I wrote it on a Starter cap
Stan Stan son listen man dad isn’t mad
But how you gonna name yourself after a damn gun and have a man bun?
The giant’s woke eyes open undeniable
Supplyin’ smoke got the firest dope
Say you got me in a scope but you grazed me
I say one call to Interscope and you’re Swayze
Your reply got the crowd yelling “Woo”
So before you die let’s see who can out-petty who
With your corny lines (Slim you’re old)
Ow Kelly ooh but I’m 45 and I’m still outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let’s talk about somethin’ I don’t really do
Go in someone’s daughter’s mouth stealin’ food
But you’re a f*ckin’ mole hill now I’ma make a mountain out of you woo!
Ho chill actin’ like you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow
Gun I bet you ain’t a bow and arrow
Say you’ll run up on me like a phone bill sprayin’ lead
Playin’ dead that’s the only time you hold still
Are you eating cereal or oatmeal?
What the f*ck’s in the bowl milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?
‘Cause I’m takin’ a sh*t in ‘em Kelly I need reading material
Dictionary
Yo Slim your last four albums sucked
Go back to Recovery oh shoot that was three albums ago
What do you know? Oops know your facts before you come at me lil’ goof
Luxury oh you broke b*tch?
Yeah I had enough money in ’02
To burn it in front of you ho
Younger me? No you’re the whack me
It’s funny but so true
I’d rather be 80 year old me than 20 year old you
‘Til I’m getting old-aged still can fill a whole page with a 10 year old’s rage
Got more fans than you in your own city lil’ kiddy
Go play feel like I’m babysitting Lil Tay
Got the Diddy okay so you spent your whole day
Shootin’ a video just to f*ckin’ dig your own grave
Got you at your own wake I’m the billy goat
You ain’t never made a list next to no Biggie no Jay
Next to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho you about to really blow
Kelly they’ll be putting your name
Next to Ja next to Benzino die motherf*cker
Like the last motherf*cker sayin’ Hailey in vain
Alien brain you Satanist (yeah)
My biggest flops are your greatest hits
The game’s mine again and ain’t nothin’ changed but the locks
So before I slay this b*tch mwah give Jade a kiss
Gotta wake up Labor Day to this (the f*ck?)
Bein’ rich aimed by some prick usin’ my name for clickbait
In a state of bliss ’cause I said his goddamn name
Now I gotta cock back aim yeah b*tch pop champagne to this
It’s your moment this is it
As big as you’re gonna get so enjoy it
Had to give you a career to destroy it
Lethal injection go to sleep six feet deep
I’ll give you a B for the effort but if I was three
Foot 11 you’d look up to me and for the record
You would suck a d*ck to f*ckin’ be me for a second
Lick a ballsack to get on my channel
Give your life to be this solidified
This mothaf*ckin’ sh*t is like Rambo when he’s out of bullets
So what f*ckin’ good is a machine gun when it’s out of ammo?
Had enough of this tatted-up mumble rapper
How the f*ck can him and I battle?
He’ll have to f*ck Kim in my flannel
I’ll give him my sandals
‘Cause he knows long as I’m Shady he’s gon’ have to live in my shadow
Exhausting letting off on my offspring
Like a gun barrel b*tch get off me
You dance around it like a sombrero we can all see
You’re f*ckin’ salty ’cause young Gerald’s balls-deep inside of Halsey
Your red sweater your black leather
You dress better I rap better
That a death threat or a love letter?
Little white toothpick
Thinks it’s over a pic I just don’t like you prick
Thanks for dissing me
Now I had an excuse on the mic to write not alike
But really I don’t care who’s in the right
But you’re losin’ the fight you picked
Who else want it Kells?
Attempt fails budden L’s
F*ckin’ nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle
Killshot I will not fail I’m with the Doc still
But this idiot’s boss pops pills and tells him he’s got skills
But Kells the day you put out a hit’s the day Diddy admits
That he put the hit out that got Pac killed ah
I’m sick of you bein’ whack
And still usin’ that mothaf*ckin’ AutoTune so let’s talk about it (let’s talk about it)
I’m sick of your mumble rap mouth
Need to get the cock up out it before we can even talk about it (talk about it)
I’m sick of your blonde hair and earrings
Just ’cause you look in the mirror and think you’re Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)
Don’t mean you are and you’re not about it versuri.us
So just leave my d*ck in your mouth and keep my daughter out it